Don't Do It, Matt!
by Ritt-chan
Summary: Malk. Definition: A glass of milk gone horribly wrong.


_**I don't own Death Note or any of its characters. All the stuff that isn't mine belongs to its rightful owners! ^^**_

* * *

Mello, Matt, and Near were all sitting in the kitchen in the crappy apartment Matt and Mello shared. Matt went to the fridge in search of something to drink.

"Matt, do you have anything to drink?" Near asked.  
"Yeah, there should be something here in the fridge." Matt answered.  
"Hey Matt, grab me a glass of Malk." Mello more ordered than asked his room-mate.  
The gamer laughed a bit. "We don't have any malk. But I could get you some milk."  
"That's what he just said." Near chided.  
"Yeah, I just said malk." The blonde agreed.

"No. You're saying it wrong. You're saying malk, like it's a disease or something." Matt said. You'd think that by now he would've learned not to question what Mello said. But then again, it was Matt. Seeing as he only paid attention to his video games, he probably didn't even know his right foot from his left. This was probably the second and only time he let his PSP battery die and didn't have his face glued to some screen.

Near laughed. "Fine then. How do _you_ say it?"  
"I'm saying it the way everyone ought to say it; _Milk._ M-I-L-K." Matt answered.  
Mello looked confused at what Matt had just said. _I just said the same shit! _He thought._ And are we really having a fucking argument over malk. I can't believe this._  
"Right, like 2%." Near said, also not seeing the difference in his and Matt's pronunciation of the word.  
"Right. Whole malk." Mello said.

The redhead sighed. "No, no, no, no, no. Say milkshake." He told his blonde friend.  
"Milkshake." The blonde repeated. A bit irritated.  
"Okay. Now say milk." Matt said.  
"Malk."

Matt sighed again and threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Near. Are you hearing this?"  
"Yeah." Near said, twirling a silver lock of hair around his finger. "The guy wants a glass of mulk."  
"Mulk?!" The game addict questioned in disbelief.  
"Give him the mulk, Matt!" Near all but shouted. Anytime Near got worked up so easily, things couldn't have ended well.  
Suddenly the almost white-haired boy's phone rang. He answered it.

"Hello?" He said, calmly.  
"It's Light. You butt dialed me. I've listened to your stupid argument for about 90 seconds now, and I don't think I can take much more."  
"Well then, let me help you with that." And with that, Near hung up on Light.  
"Who was that?" Matt asked.  
"It doesn't matter." Near said, continuing to play in his hair.

"MATT! POUR ME, A GLASS, OF MALK!" Mello screamed the way only he can.  
"Why are you yelling at me?" Matt inquired.  
"Just give him the freaking mulk!" Near yelled.  
"You guys aren't even saying the same thing!" The redhead yelled back.  
"WE'RE ALL SAYING MALK, MATT!" Mello shouted, taking a large bite out of a chocolate bar that semed to appear out of nowhere. Really people, where does he keep this stuff?

"No! _You're_ saying malk!" Matt shouted, pointing at the blonde. Then he pointed to Near. " "And _you're_ saying-" But he was cut off by the platinum-haired detective.  
"MULLLLK! MUUUULK!" He said, loudly.  
"MAAAALK!" Mello joined in. This went on for a little while until it looked like the poor gamer finally lost it.

"SHUT UP!" Matt roared, pulling out a gun and pointing it at Near and then at Mello. "SHUT! UP!" Finally he put the gun against his own head.  
Mello and Near pulled out their own guns and pointed them at Matt.  
"You better put it down, Matt!" Near yelled.  
"Don-Don't do it, Matt!" Mello stuttered.  
"You're gonna shoot me if I shoot myself? That doesn't make any sense!" The redhead screamed.

As much as they hated to admit it, he was right. Mello and Near looked to each other for a moment. Then they got an idea. They put their handguns to each of their own heads.  
"MATT!" The blonde screeched.  
"Put it down now!" Near shouted.  
"PUT THE GUN DOWN MATT!" Mello roared.  
"PUT YOUR GUNS AWAAAAY!" Matt yelled. Only half thinking now. One; because he had a gun pointed to his own head, two; because his game was dead, and three; he was still quite upset at the fact that he was the only one in the room pronouncing the word "milk" correctly.

"MATT PUT IT DOWN NOW!" Near yelled.  
"I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF OVER THIS!" Matt shrieked.  
"You're like a brother to me! Shit, Matt! You're like a fucking brother to me!" Mello was almost crying.  
The argument really just ended in the three boys screaming random obscenities and gibberish at each other.

* * *

"Yeah, so then you all pull the trigger." Matsuda finished.  
"What? We're not doing that, Matsuda-san." The director said. When he said he needed new ideas for the season finale, this... wasn't exactly what he had in mind.  
"But why not? It took me all night to think that up." Matsuda whined.  
"Yeah. I thought it was cool." Mello said, strutting into the room with chocolate covered hands.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, it's very funny. But it seems a little dark, and I don't think the fans are ready for that." The director said.  
"Oh please. L is dead. If the fans got though that, then they can handle anything." Ryuzaki said from his seat, stuffing his face with cake.

* * *

_**A/N: I hope you liked it! Reviews are appreciated! ~xoxo~**_


End file.
